


Sex is a Battle; Love is War

by awabubbles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Brother Feels, Dark, Demon Dean, Dubious Consent, Handcuffs, M/M, Sam Winchesters magical dick heals his brother, Season/Series 10, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 21:28:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2522393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awabubbles/pseuds/awabubbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam tries to fuck his demon!brother better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex is a Battle; Love is War

“You really think this is a good idea, Sammy?” Dean growls. He’s lying passively on the bed, muscles relaxed. But Sam knows not to let his guard down, not even for a second.

“It’s the only way,” he concludes. Nervous, and his voice shakes.

The demon in his brother latches on to his doubt. “Yeah cause last I checked everybody else you’ve fucked is dead. Hell you didn’t even _get_ to fuck Sarah and she still ended up six feet under. Face it Sam, your luck in the sack _sucks_.”

Sam shuts his eyes, gathers himself. He can still hear Castiel’s voice in his head the day they figured out it was a _different_ bodily secretion that cured demons. Not blood but, well, something a little more intimate. For once he is glad the angel was miles away. Nobody needs to know exactly how Sam Winchester plans to cure his brother.

He checks the demon trap on the ceiling above them, the salt line around the perimeter of the bed, the handcuffs behind his brother’s back-carved with a similar demon trap, and the rope soaked in holy water holding Den's ankles together.

“You really want your _brother_ to end up dead too?” Dean asks.

“No,” Sam finally says, stepping over the salt line and sitting slowly on the edge of the bed. “But that’s why I’m doing this. Because I’m not ready to give up on him. You.”

Dean growls. His submissive act vanishes and his muscles jerk violently, fighting against his restraints. Sam tenses but the charms and the spells hold. Dean is more or less immobile for the next hour. He better make this work.

Sam begins to unbutton his shirt.

“Sure you can even get it up, Sammy?” his brother goads.

Honestly, Sam’s not sure. “I took a pill,” he lies. “I’m all set in that department, thanks.”

Dean chuckles, dark and deep. “Good. Cause don’t think I’m gonna make this _easy_ on you.”

Sam sighs. No. Of course not. That wouldn't be Dean, demon or not, to make anything easy for him.

Sam stands and slowly removes his jeans, then his boxers. He folds everything neatly and places them on the other side of the salt line. Then he stands next to the bed, knees touching the metal frame that holds up the mattress and palms his dick. Soft, tries to stir some life in to it. He’s glad his brother’s back is to him.

“You know, you used to enjoy this,” Sam says. The memory of his brother’s lips bring some warmth to his gut, when Dean used to whisper ‘Sammy’ in his ears and it wasn’t a threat. He lies down on the bed behind his naked brother, runs his hands along Dean’s skin nostalgically.

“Are you sure?” the demon in his brother challenges, flinches at his touch. “Cause maybe I didn’t have much other choice. You ever think about that? The two of us. Alone. With this job. It’s like the army, Sammy you’re just helpin’ a guy out. It was never anything more than _that_.”

Sam inches closer, closes the gap between them. With some work he's hard now, and his erection presses between Dean’s thighs. Dean bucks, tries to shake him but Sam wraps his good arm around him and holds them close together. It’s like riding a bull bareback, barely restrained power. Sam grows a little harder.

“I always thought about girls when I was with you, Sammy,” Dean continued. “A hundred different girls I would have rather been with, than with you. I even chose the King of Hell over you!”

Sam ignores his brother’s diatribe and hushes him, reaches for Dean’s cock. To his surprise it’s already flushed and hard.

“You don’t have to enjoy this, exactly,” Sam whispers into his brother’s ear, strokes Dean slowly even as he continues to buck and resist. “And I won’t blame you if you hate me for this afterwards either. But I do want you to know that I don’t plan on hurting you. Even if you’re a lame-ass douchebag demon, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Don’t pretend like you’re doing me a favor,” Dean snarls. “I’m going to fight you every inch of the way _baby boy_. So don’t get cozy back there.”

Dean’s voice is a little different from his newfound Batman impersonation. It’s hitched a little, his breath shallower, coming quicker. Sam can tell the demon in his brother is fighting against his own arousal, struggling against him while also fucking into his hand. It was curious to Sam, that demons would still engage in sexual activity. Most angels were asexual but demons ran around still enjoying the pleasurable things in life, albeit a more twisted version of them. He didn’t like to think that meant sex was innately bad, or amoral. He certainly hoped it wasn’t, since the cure devised by the Men of Letters required it. And if there was any truth to what his brother had said about him “in the sack”, and he knew that there was, maybe this was his chance to change that.

Maybe sex could finally solve something instead of breaking it apart.

When Dean is completely erect, Sam props himself up on his hurt arm, winces. Uses his good one to remove the plug he inserted inside Dean earlier. His brother growls, but if he wasn’t a demon, it would have been a moan.

“Fuck.”

“Sorry,” Sam apologizes; sets the plug aside as he slicks his cock.

Dean laughs at him. Then he feels Sam at his entrance. He struggles, but Sam holds him firm.

“I’m sorry,” Sam says again as he pushes inside his brother. Dean is open because of the plug and he enters without much effort. Gasps slightly at the feeling. It’s been a long time.

But Dean reacts badly, curses him and once again tries to throw him off. Sam wraps his good arm around Dean and holds on tight. There’s an ugly cry from his brother, something deep and demonic. It scares Sam but he hangs on. He’s bucking his hips into Dean while they battle for control and eventually there’s a break in Dean’s stamina. Sam grabs his brother’s cock again and shushes him, kisses his shoulder and tells Dean everything’s going to be okay.

“We’re gonna make it through this Dean, okay? Like we always have, like we always do. I’m not gonna let you go Dean. I’m never, ever gonna let you go.”

“I feel sorry for you,” Dean pants, as Sam continues to thrust into him, slow but firm. “Cause you actually believe that. But even if you manage it, you really think there’s ever a coming back from this?”

Sam squeezes Dean’s dick, fucks into him a little harder as his answer. Concentrates on curing his brother.

“I knew what I was doing when I put that angel in you. And I knew what I was doing when I took the Mark of Cain. Goddamn the consequences, you know me Sammy.” His brother laughs, grunting as Sam fucks right into his prostate. “Point is I jumped into the pit, willingly. You wanna pull me back out little brother? Who says I won’t jump _right back in_?”

“Cause I won’t let you,” Sam says simply. “You don’t get to jump into my head and tell me that we have to stick together, no matter what, and then crap out on me. That’s not how this works Dean.”

“And this is? C’mon Sammy, even you gotta admit that’s a little fucked up.”

Yeah. He knows that's true. They're at a crossroads now. Something broken, gotta figure out how to fix it. But one thing at a time. “I just wish you’d let someone in, Dean. Let me…even like this…let me do this. I miss this…us.” Sam screws his eyes shut and thinks about Dean, his Dean, his brother since birth coming with parted lips and fluttering eyelashes. His brother’s dick jerking as he came, a flush across his cheeks. The way Dean smiles at him afterwards and this warm feeling that spreads in his chest.

The memory ignites in him like gunpowder and Sam comes shuddering, and shaking inside of his brother. Just like the ritual called for, just like the Men of Letters said he should. And the chemical reaction is almost instantaneous. Dean howls, but not in pleasure, in pain. His fists clench and his toes curl. His face scrunches tight as the cure starts to work, beginning the process of killing off the part of him that’s gone darkside.

Sam gets off the bed and watches his brother with a conflicted expression, as the cure takes its course.

When it’s finally over, Dean pants heavily into the sheets. “ _What_? I don’t even get to come? Damn selfish of you Sammy,” he laughs weakly.

Sam doesn’t know how many times he has to do this until Dean is finally his brother again, but for now he leaves Dean restrained in the bedroom, showers, and prepares himself for another round.


End file.
